


Shadhavar

by RhineGold



Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: (sort of), M/M, Other, Space Unicorns - Freeform, Watersports, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29705430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhineGold/pseuds/RhineGold
Summary: 'A fucking space unicorn,' He thinks desperately, just before it reaches for him.
Relationships: Nicholas Rush/Original Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rush’s track record with aliens does not improve. Here be monsters - a space unicorn, to be exact. Warnings for rape, violence, and xenophilia.
> 
> (Started 2012, Updated 2014)

It comes out of nowhere, taking down Mackie first. The sergeant barely has a chance to raise his weapon before he is rolled down and aside, falling silent when he hits a tree. Instantly, the camp breaks into a panic as the creature tears through the thick underbrush, demolishing a lean-to in what appears to be too calculated a gesture to be comfortable. 

There are not enough soldiers here in the camp today - too many have gone with the colonel on his expedition to explore the mountains to the south. What few armed persons there are can do little good - it moves too fast and there are too many civilians running in every direction. 

Nicholas Rush does not run, though he does look frightened. He draws back against the rocky outcropping they have been using as a makeshift firepit and grill, both hands palm-flat against the warm stone. Greer spares him a nod and hunkers down in front of him, rifle at the ready. They are not the best of friends but Rush is an unarmed civilian and Greer will do what he should for him. 

It emerges from the treeline again, followed by a chorus of screams from what might have been Park. Greer bites his lip and cocks the gun, but the thing is on him before he can fire more than the smallest bursts. The bullets rain off the thing's hide and the master sergeant swears as his gun chokes on a mis-aligned shell. Rush realizes it has arms, and hands, really - thick, blunt digits with polished black tips like bone and it is all he can focus on as they wrap around Greer's neck. 

He realizes he is shouting, though his brain is not up to speed on exactly what, and his hands are on the beast's arm, straining and reaching up, up, trying desperately to salvage some of Greer's throat. When it turns its head to look at him, glittering black eyes in a face that might have been humanoid if the snout weren't so equine, he sees the single, curved black horn protruding from its forehead. 

'A fucking space unicorn,' He thinks desperately, just before it reaches for him.

~*~

He kicks and bites and shouts, but to no avail. The beast is huge, nearly seven feet tall and heavily muscled. _Bullets_ bounced off its skin and so one small mathematician's poorly-angled blows do nothing. The creature hoists him up over its shoulder, one massive hand on his back and hip, pinning him in place as it runs.

The forest is a nauseating blur of green and blueish branches but he realizes they are heading towards the mountains. 'Young,' he thinks, 'Colonel Young,' and now his shouts have a purpose, but it's hard to catch his breath. The thing's shoulder is rigid under his abdomen, digging in deep, but at least it isn't trying to eat him or break him in two. Yet. 

Eventually the elevation changes and the beast's gait slows as they move up a steep, rocky incline. There are caves dug out here, a gathering too purposeful to be random and icy fear slides down Rush's spine even as the beast grips him tighter. There may be /more/ of them. 

One of the caves on the highest part of the slope appears to be their destination. He wonders if the elevation and distance from the others is a sign of status or the lack thereof. The cave is dark and cold and he is thrown unceremoniously on the surprisingly smooth floor, landing in a pile of sweet-smelling grasses and tanned hides that is clearly the creature's bed. 

'Bed,' he thinks, and at least it's not the larder, or the cook-pot, but this is not a much more promising proposition now that he is faced with the creature at last. 

It is enormous, surely seven feet tall or more, with two strongly muscled legs that end in flatter, rounded feet, like giant deer's hooves, cloven in the middle. The arms are long and lean, ending in the hands, with their multi-jointed digits and strange, round tapers - fingernails or blunted talons? The only hair on its body appears to be the long, sinewy fall of locks from its head. Rush had felt this hair blowing against his skin as the beast carried him - it was not soft, but not quite hard - like microscopically thin strips of leather. 

The cave bears signs of an intelligent, if rudimentary mind - the bed, an area clearly designed for food preparation, complete with a large, smooth stone and a basin etched out of a second slab. Dried plants hang from pegs bored into the walls, which cheers him with the indication that perhaps it is a vegetarian after all. 

But the teeth he can see as it leans closer to him do not support this theory - sharp and defined. The creature's lips curl back as it continues to huff and sniff and Rush realizes belatedly that the beast is _smelling him_. 

The horn, sharp and boney, as sinewy and ridged as the rest of him, is dangerously close to Rush's face as it leans even closer now. He tries not to stare at it, feeling his eyes want to cross in the process, as it continues to close the gap between them. It is kneeling on the floor now, having dropped down without a sound, still inhaling huskily. 

The thin, rippling skin surrounding the mouth tickles his forehead as it nuzzles against him, almost as though it is looking for something. A small, small huff of fear finally escapes Rush as he falls back on his elbows, staring up at the thing with wide, terrified eyes. 

He can see the intelligence in the creature's dark eyes, almost black with huge pupils of its own. It is clearly regarding him with contemplation. Rush scrambles back until he is against the cave wall when it reaches for him, fingers dancing almost gently over the material of his BDU jacket. It ignores his attempts to pull away, merely closing the distance between them. He closes his eyes, biting his own lip to contain another soft sound as the fingers pry into the jacket, learning how it works before efficiently stripping it away. 

The jacket joins the pile nesting in the bed and Rush opens his eyes again as nothing happens. The beast is examining his arms, it seems, reaching out finally to lift one arm for inspection. The tips of its fingers are blunt and warm as it traces over his skin, following the line of muscle up to his shoulder. Rush gasps again as those warm, hard fingers trace across his clavicle and up to his throat. For a moment, one digit digs painfully into his adam's apple, making him choke, but it is gone the instant he does, followed by a rough palm over his hair that is clearly meant to be soothing. 

Now that it has touched his hair, the beast leans in closer, petting over his scalp, feeling the thin, fine whisps of hair. Hysterically, he thinks it's good that his hair is clean, having bathed in the nearby stream back at the camp only that morning. They'd had no idea then that something like this could be lurking in the woods. None of their initial scans and scouts had returned any indication there were creatures of this size, let alone this intellect. 

The palm in his hair trails down until it is touching his face, smooth after his time and attention to his own grooming this morning. The beast leans in, and to Rush's absolute fascination, it huffs out a breath that includes a sound that might actually be a word. " _Abassa_ ," It says softly. 

"...A... Abassa?" He repeats, rolling the word. The thing's throat seems to work differently and he cannot nail the inflection it is using. 

" _Abassa_ ," It repeats, clenching its hand on his shoulder briefly. " _Shadav_ ," it continues, clearly indicating itself. 

"...Shadav," Rush nods, a trifle too forcefully in his nervousness, lifting one shaking hand to touch the thing's broad chest. It is introducing itself. You didn't introduce yourself to something you were planning to kill, right? Unbidden, a line from one of the ridiculously pointless movies Eli had forced them all to watch drifts up in his memory and he brutally shoves it away in favor of believing this is progress. 

The beast's chest is hard and muscled and unbelievably warm in the cool air of the cave. He can see where the bullets burned welts into the skin but did not break it, and he wonders how thick the thing's hide really is. Finally, he draws his hand away, looking up to meet the thing's gaze. It's snout is equine but the eyes are centered on the flat of the face, like a human's, rather than the sides like horse. Taking a shaky breath, Rush places his hand on his own chest and says slowly, "Nicholas. Nicholas Rush."

It cocks its head to the side in confusion, staring at his throat as it begins snuffling and smelling again. " _...Nishola_ ," It offers finally. 

"...Close enough." He murmurs, feeling relief break over him like a cold sweat. It's understanding him - listening. Perhaps it can be reasoned with after all. 

But it does not look reasonable as it looms back, leaning on its hooves as it cocks its head again. Rush swallows hard, eyebrows drawn up in apprehension. He scoots to the side again, trying to put more space between them, to edge towards the mouth of the cave. He cannot hope to outrun the thing, but perhaps he can hide in the treeline and be safe. But the way it is continuing to huff the air, as if /devouring/ his scent, makes him wonder if it would just be able to hone in on him with ridiculous accuracy no matter how well he managed to lose himself in the underbrush. 

He has read somewhere that when a creature is afraid it lets out a scent, a subtle shift in pheromones that indicates this to any nearby predators. And so, he tries brutally to swallow his fear, but the idea of being touched, being held at the mercy of yet another alien creature makes his chest tighten unexpectedly. He can feel the scar there tingling and itching with what is surely psychosomatic nonsense, but for a moment, his breath comes short and reedy and he wonders if he might faint. 

But the Nakai had never spoken to him, not verbally, not directly. Their commands and demands had filtered directly into his mind, so barely discernable from his own mental impulses that it had left him constantly disoriented. This creature had given him its name and it was not looking at him as though he were a mere curiosity, as the blue aliens had. It looked reflective, as though it _wanted_ something. 

The hand on his face is back and he tries not to flinch from that touch. He is dry and dressed and surrounded by air, not anything thicker and colder, he tells himself. And then the hand on his face slides down to his shoulder, pushing hard enough to bruise. 

Rush yelps as he is suddenly yanked forward and efficiently rolled onto his knees. He raises his hands, palms smacking into the floor, the vibration travelling up his arms and he freezes when he feels the thing's snout between his legs.

He can feel his eyes aching with how wide they have opened in surprise as the beast continues to smell at him, nuzzling between his legs, urging them apart with its hands. Rush tries to get a hold of his breathing, because surely this is not happening. One moment it had been trying to communicate and looking awed by buttons and now it is running its flat, warm palms over the insides of his thighs.

It spreads his legs almost as though it is studying his reactions, as though it is trying to determine how far his thighs will actually part. When it begins to hurt, he cries out, and the pressure immediately lets off. He clutches at one of the hides scattered across the bed, fingers digging into the smooth material and he whimpers despite himself as the thing begins feeling around his hips. 

When it discovers the button of his pants, the beast makes a small sound of understanding, large blunt digits fumbling with the small fastening. Rush tries to jerk his hips away, to crawl forward, but a broad palm, spanning nearly the width of his back presses down in a clear warning.

" _Abassa_ ," the thing repeats, leaning down so its mouth is near his ear. " _Shadavabassa manyash io._ " 

"Sha... man-yeah... I don't... I don't understand..." He gasps out, throwing his hair out of his eyes, but the beast ignores him, reaching for the waist of the pants again. The fingers delve under his shirt, palming flat against his stomach before slipping into the edge of the too-large camo pants. 

The seams of the fabric do not hold against the pressure the beast exerts against it and Rush cringes, burying his face in his arms as his pants are stripped away. It does not seem to notice that he is wearing shoes, and he wonders hysterically if it thinks they are just part of his feet, like its own wide, flat hooves. His underwear lasts only a few seconds more and he is bare to the thing's gaze. 

Rush is perfectly still as the thing parts his legs again, reaching one palm down to smooth between his skin. The beast trails its fingers over his ass, down into the cleft, before continuing around to his scrotum. The fingers dance and hesitate over his testicles before curving up to grope at his limp member, and back again. He realizes the hesitation and repetition are _confusion_ and Rush cannot bite down his sharp crack of laughter. It thought he was _female_.

He braces himself for a blow as the fingers withdraw. Surely now that its plans to make him some kind of conquest have been shattered, it will turn to violence instead. He is only half wrong. 

The hands return, parting his legs again, to the fullest extent before it becomes painful. He realizes with a start that it _remembers_ the point of his discomfort and is deliberately skirting it. Still, Rush swears and surges forward when one of those fingers finds his cleft again. The beast merely grips his hip, jerking him backwards and slightly to the side as it continues to trace around his opening.

Rush cries out when the tip of one finger breaches him, feeling blunt and wrong and utterly unwanted. The beast thrusts the digit in, twisting until he can force it deeper, investigating the depth of the passage. When it seems satisfied that it is not a completely shallow opening, a second digit pries in alongside the first, making Rush grit his teeth and roll his hips forward to no avail. 

The penetration is dry and painful, the smooth digits still dragging painfully into and across his tightly clenched muscles. When a third finger begins poking bluntly against his tender opening, he feels tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. "Please..." He whispers, still struggling in vain to hitch his hips forward, "Please, it hurts... You're hurting me... Shadav... hurting Nicholas, please..."

The beast pauses when he calls out to it, but the twisting of the fingers resumes shortly. Rush is shaking now, tremors wracking his body as he struggles physically to accept the painful invasion and mentally tries to cope with this kind of assault. 

Finally, the fingers are withdrawn, after all four on one hand have been twisted inside, parting and spreading him open painfully. He desperately tries to recall seeing any sexual organs on the creature, but all he remembers is the thick bulge of flesh between its legs, looking more like a solid lump than a penis. But even as he wonders if he is safe from that, he can feel it pressing against him. 

Tossing his hair from his eyes, he twists his head to look over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of it. The creature's organ has emerged from the curved sheath between its legs, revealing a thick, muscled shaft that looks as sturdy and ridged as the beast's horn. It looks hopelessly long and wide, and Rush struggles in earnest now, trying to climb to his feet and run. 

The beast catches him easily, flinging him back across the grassy bed with a snarl, but Rush will not give up that easily. Rolling to the side, he flings one of the hides up in the thing's face, throwing himself to his feet again and running full-pelt towards the door. With a bellow of rage, the beast catches him again, hands bruisingly strong on his shoulders. 

Rush cries out as it slams a fist into the small of his back, sending him to the floor again. One hand closes over his leg, curving down around his muscle and Rush _screams_ as it squeezes and twists, crushing the bone in his right knee. 

He lays there on his hands and one knee, gasping for breath as the white-hot pain overtakes his senses, and suddenly the beast is on him, curving over his back. He can feel the thing's erection stabbing between his legs, and he tries instinctively to roll his hips away. Unfortunately, this puts pressure on his leg and he screams again, his whole hip going limp as his leg fails him. 

With a grunt, the creature aligns himself against Rush's opening, using one hand on his hip to hold the weight on his right side, keeping him level and balanced on just three limbs. Rush's screams take on a higher, sharper keen as the hot, wet head of the beast's erection slams inside him. 

Snarling and groaning, the creature forces itself in several inches, bludgeoning its way inside the too-small passage. Rush is shaking like a leaf in the thing's hands, unable to move, his throat locked up on another shriek. 

With another bellow of rage, the beast pulls back, rolling Rush onto his side onto the bed again. He lays there, feeling pulverized and shattered, unable to even lift his head as the beast moves throughout the cave. It returns too quickly, and Rush manages a sob of fright as he is lifted again onto his hands and knee. His right leg twists uselessly under him and he tries to focus on that pain instead of the thing's fingers as they prise inside him again. 

Something cold and wet is smeared into him then, making him shake all the more as his insides seem to go completely numb. He can feel the muscles relaxing and he is suddenly gratful that he has not eaten since his last bowel movement, to save him the indigeneity of losing himself on his alien rapist. 

When the creature presses itself against Rush this time, the head slides in much more easily, wringing only a soft sob of denial from the small man. He clutches at the bed's contents, fighting back keening sobs as the beast ruts deeper, sinking inch after inch of its sinewy erection deeper inside him. The flesh widens as it continues down, each new inch parting him deeper and harder than the last. The strange disconnect between the extreme cold of the gel and the extreme heat of the creature somehow make the intrusion more tolerable, numbing and soothing his tortured flesh, even as he is continually rent in two. 

Finally, the beast growls, low in its throat, the motion carrying through Rush's trembling body where it has its head hooked over his shoulder. The rush of heat inside him pulverizes the cold sensation and Rush screams, a raw and desperate sound. It feels as though his body is burning as it twists and convulses around the length still buried inside of it. The beast does not move, keeping itself in him as deep as it can go, merely rolling their bodies to the side. 

A hot, slick tongue bathes the side of his face as the creature nuzzles him again. " _Manyasha eijho abassa,_ " the beast murmurs, sounding clearly sated. Rush continues shuddering uncontrollably in the thing's embrace as the shock of his assault continues to ravage through him, even after the attack itself has ceased. 

~*~ 


	2. Chapter 2

At some point during the night, Rush had fainted, still speared painfully by the thing's erection, unable to move. When he wakes, it is day again, the bright, almost white, sunlight filtering through the cave. The air is warmer and he can smell, rather than see the fire dancing in the low circle carved into the floor at the center of the chamber. 

His body is numb from the waist down, and for one brief, disoriented moment, he is certain the thing has broken his spine and left him paralyzed. Instead his subsequent thrashing brings him up onto his left knee. His right knee is bandaged, wrapped in a tight mesh of reeds and leather strips; blessedly numb, but obviously broken. Falling down onto his hip, Rush hesitantly opens his legs, reaching to check the extent of the damage. There is blood on his fingers, dark and sluggish, and more than a bit of the gel. 

He realizes the beast has cleaned him, inside and out. The bed's grass is fresh and sweet-smelling again, all signs of the violence done to him in this nest of material vanished, save the shredded remains of his pants. He finds his jacket where it has been kicked over to one side and ties it loosely around his waist. 

Carefully, very carefully, Rush pushes his weight against the side of the cave wall. His body groans in protest and his vision swims as he manages to half-crawl, half-drag himself up on one leg. Immediately, he regrets this decision. Now that he is standing, he realizes there is nothing nearby to take the weight of his injured leg. Still, determined, he tries to shuffle against the wall, leaning against it and hopping awkwardly. 

He makes it about three feet before he overbalances, crashing to the floor with a sharp, hoarse cry. The sound echoes in the cave and he freezes, going absolutely still as a shadow falls across the entrance, blotting out the weak rays of the sun.

It isn't the same creature. He can tell this almost immediately, despite himself, surprising himself. This one is smaller, more of a grey than the initial beast's sleek blackness. The same type of long, coiled horn protrudes from the thing's forehead, and the same large black eyes look him over from top to bottom. 

The thing snuffs and comes closer, deeper into the cave, inhaling and exhaling like it is tasting the air. Rush backs away on his hands and knees, deeper into the shadows, as though he can pretend the creature has not already sighted him. 

When it comes forward, it goes down on all four legs, reaching experimentally for his ankle, just above his boot. He kicks out at it ineffectually, but the grip is as strong and sturdy as the thing's counterpart, and he is easily yanked back down until they are face-to-snout. His arms and legs splay out to either side as the thing continues to smell at him, finally seeming satisfied after an investigation that leaves Rush trembling in terror. He can feel the curvature of the thing's sex against his leg, without even having to look down. Something about his scent, his particular scent, seems to attract the creatures, seems to leave them inflamed and intrigued in a way that is beyond terrifying. 

When it flips him onto his stomach, he cries out, high and keening, but it ignores him, snuffling now between his legs at his still gaped and loosened hole. Humiliation burns in Rush's cheeks as a tongue laves at him, slick and thick and utterly shameless. 

The beast snorts and shakes his head, obviously displeased by the things it scents _inside_ of him. The thing's horn bumps against Rush's leg for a moment, and then it shifts posture, coming up to tower over him, placing something entirely different against his hole. 

It hurts, hurts much worse than the last one, and he screams, throat already raw and aching from too much of the same thing. There is no lubrication and he can feel himself stretch and tear around the thick member. The thin skin begins to bleed, making the intrusion a bit slicker but by no means easier. His mind curtains itself into a shuddering, shuttered space where there is comforting nothingness, but not enough to be complete oblivion. For one horrific moment, he recalls a sound Gloria made once, when she'd cut herself on a violin string - a sharp, swearing inhalation of sound and stunned disbelief. She had been unable to rationalize that her violin had wounded her - he is unable to even begin to accept or comprehend this situation. 

The beast is fully inside him now and the thrust it makes lifts him off the ground completely, making his boots scoot at the cave's stones and grit. They are still in the entrance of the cave and he lunges away to the best of his ability, but it isn't enough, not with his knee and the sheer massiveness of the beast and the way he is pinioned.

And suddenly, his head begins to throb in sharp counterpoint to the thrusts, a boring sort of pulsating pain, just above his left temple, and he screams again, clutching at his head. The cave smells violent somehow, smells angry, and he realizes there are two shadows on the wall just before the organ stretching him rips free from his body with agonizing force. 

Rush is thrown away from the ensuing melee in an almost off-hand way. Shadav is there, pummeling into the other creature with his shoulders, thrusting their horns together. Both of their organs hand long and erect, free from their pouches, and he imagines he can still see his own blood there, smeared and telling as the larger of the beasts fights to defend his prisoner victim's honor, or at the very least, the right to claim him. 

The fight is one-sided because Shadav is so much larger, his black skin sweating with lather as he savagely knocks the smaller creature into the far wall, using moves that remind Rush vaguely of sumo wrestling and bull-fighting, all at the same time. The creature falls onto one knee and Shadav is there, hands cruel and powerful as they wrap around the smaller one's horn. There is a terrible, shrill, equine sound, followed by the sound of bone snapping, and the scents and sounds abruptly stop. 

The pain in Rush's head evaporates as quickly as it came, and he sags, exhausted and bleeding, onto the cavern floor. The smaller creature collapses, clearly dead, and Shadav roars, an echoing roil of triumph. It is so nauseatingly masculine that Rush feels a laugh bubble up unbidden in the core of his chest, and he buries his face in his hands, laughing as he sobs. 

They remain that way for a moment, until Shadav moves towards him, making him flinch as flat as he can. 

The snuffling is back, the nose pressed to his entrance different this time, less aggressive and more... concerned. Then there is movement, a sound like leaves rustling, and the blessed coolness of the ointment is soothing his screaming skin. Shadav is speaking to him, but apart from the bastardization of his name and that word that never seems to stop littering the conversations (" _Abassa..._ "), none of it makes any sense. The tone is soothing and conciliatory, as though trying to calm and reassure him. As though there isn't another space unicorn fucking lying dead across the room.

Rush closes his eyes and collapses into himself, letting the sounds and the softly scratching sensation of those blunted nails in his hair sooth him to sleep.

When he wakes up, he is outside and facing his worst nightmare since the Nakai.

~*~

He can count 16 of them, in varying shades of black and grey. One very elderly looking one is nearly white with grey, grizzled around the edges. They are all peering down at him with a blend of fascination and borderline obsession. He must smell delectable to these creatures, he thinks hysterically. 

Naked except for his boots and the dressing on his knee, he is lying sprawled across a large, flat stone near the stream that runs just past the system of caves. The part of him that thinks like Daniel Fucking Jackson wonders if the river ran more impressively once and carved out all of the structures these alien monsters now call home. 

Shadav is speaking to all of them, but primarily seems to be addressing the elder creature, gesticulating, sometimes at Rush and others in a way that is clearly meant to indicate the initial abduction, with the soldiers and their guns, and the way the bullets rained off of his unyielding hide. 

Rush sits up as much as he is able, regretting it immediately when the creatures begin to shift and murmur. One of them speaks strongly, and their eyes are sad and wide, even compared to the others. He wonders if it was somehow related to the dead unicorn. He can see the body now that he is sitting up, lying draped across another rock on the other side of the stream, covered hap-hazardly in a few branches. More Daniel Jackson type things, he thinks wildly. Funeral gestures and grief, but no one seems to be trying to arrest or inhibit Shadav, unless this is some kind of lynch mob in which he's being forced to play a part. 

There is that word again, ' _abassa_ ,' from the angry one this time, and he wonders if it is female, because there is a softness to the chest that does not seem present on Shadav and a few of the others. Anthropology is the only thing keeping him from screaming right now, so he will fucking take it, even if it isn't normally his area of expertise. 

Shadav is defiant of the female, speaking firmly to the grizzled elder - " _Nisholaabassa yo_ ," and many other words fly between several of them. And then they are all looking at him again.

The elder steps forward, moving slowly as though his legs want to fold down into an all-fours position, his arms hanging heavy towards the ground. The tips of his fingers look especially black, shining like his overly large horn, and he reaches out to touch Rush's forehead in a gesture that almost looks like benediction. 

He forces himself to remain stock-still, hoping he is doing the right thing, and the fingers trace across his brow where a horn would be were he one of them. Then the fingers trail to the left, to the exact spot the Nakai communication device affixed to his body. The pain is sudden, making him slap a hand against his own forehead as he doubles over in agony. It feels like someone is humming inside his head, making his skull rattle, not unlike the pain in the cave, and he screams. Several of the creatures step back, some murmuring under their breath, except Shadav, who moves forward as though concerned.

The pain ends and he slumps, gasping, still clutching himself in a weak, exhausted curl, falling onto his side in the foetal position. The elder turns and pronounces something to the others and there is a general cry, so monotone that it sounds intoned into them. And then Shadav is at the edge of the rock and it is only when he reaches to spread Rush's legs, one hand on his knee and the other on his right thigh, that he even realizes what is going on. 

He struggles as he is turned onto his stomach, but the other creatures are crowding closer, making escape impossible, even if he could put weight on his leg. Shadav is considerate, keeping one hand on his right thigh to take the weight off of his broken knee, but consideration means nothing when the very act itself is one of dominance and rape. 

Rush realizes that screaming as he is penetrated is becoming habit at this point, and he stutters on another inappropriate laugh. The female is right in his line of sight, one hand combed into her own leathery hair, and he wonders if her expression is indifference or pity as he sobs. Shadav has apparently prepared him - the cold gel has been liberally smeared into him, he realizes, but he is large, larger than a man, larger still than the one that made him bleed, and he moans with a desperate sort of inevitability as he feels him sink into him up until it feels as though he is being fucked right up into the gut. 

The others become a haze of indistinct grey as the sun sets, but they are close enough now to touch the mating pair, and some of them do. The elder begins it, touching Rush on the left side of the forehead, and others follow, rustling fingers though his hair as Shadav continues to thrust and rut into him with slow, claiming, and powerful strokes. He sobs aloud and he realizes the one touching him is the sad-eyed female, and for some reason, this makes him cry harder. Shadav finishes after what seems like hours, but the final humiliation is yet to come. 

As he pulls free of Rush's body, he carefully lowers him to lay on his hands and one knee, balanced carefully to keep his injured leg off of the surface of the rock. 

When it first hits him, he thinks it could be water - perhaps rain, perhaps even spit, but it is too consistent and too warm and he realizes all-too soon precisely what is raining down, hot and sticky across his back.

It feels thicker than a human's would be, sliding down his back like honey, smearing into his hair and down into his gaping asshole, joining the mess of gel and come leaking out of him there. Shadav does not stop urinating on him until it feels like every inch is covered and Rush can barely hold himself up, arms trembling with the effort and the shock of it all. It is too much. It is all too much. And out of the corner of his eye, he sees it suddenly. 

Fast, darting in and out of the treeline, clearly uncontrolled and exploratory, checking each tree and bush, but not yet noticing the encampment and the activities being held in the dying light. 

The creatures haven't seen it yet, but Rush would know that bobbing and weaving skimming anywhere. 

A kino.

~*~

He is lifted from the rock, and there is something about the way he is handled that reminds him more of livestock than of romance, all for limbs dangling, and he is carried down to the stream. 

The thick, cloying urine drips off of him with every step, dragging down from his hair into his eyes and mouth, making them sting and raising a bitter, burning taste to his tongue. When Shadav lowers him into the water, it is onto another smoothed stone, and he knows this is another stage in their ritual. He snorts and nudges at Rush, indicating he should hold his hands into the water and then, lifting them both, uses the limp limbs to splash water onto Rush's chest and shoulders. Clearly he is meant to bathe himself.

Shadav withdraws then, returning to the others, who remain watching him at the river's bank. There is nothing he wants more than to bathe in the water, geothermally warm, and he splashes it onto himself again and again, desperate to get the thickness and filth off of himself. The water runs up to his chest, and he ducks into it, scrubbing hands through his hair as he holds his breath.

When his head breaks the surface of the water, the kino is there, within arms reach. 

Glancing over his shoulder, he stretches as far as he can onto his left leg without the stabilization of his right. They cannot see it for the darkness and the angle and he continues to splash noisily for cover and snatches the sphere in two fingers, jerking it towards him.

"Colonel Young, Eli...." He gasps and his breath is nearly stolen with the shock of talking after all this time. "There are at least 20 of them. Bullets don't work. They're civilized. They live in the caves." He wracks his brain for something to add, anything that might be helpful, "Breaking their horns seems to kill them, but..." Behind him, there is a sound as one of them, probably Shadav, enters the waters. "Come," He gasps out in a whisper. "Please come. Please don't leave me..." 

And he flings the kino as hard as he can, turning at the same time, praying it will now return the way it came, that someone is checking the footage being sent back, and that none of the creatures notice the small ball of metal that is his only hope. 

Shadav lifts him like a lamb again, and he goes limp and accepts it. It's not all over, he thinks. This isn't hopeless. Because now, Rush has a plan.

~*~


End file.
